


States of Mind

by JPeterson



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, F/F, Humor, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-08-29 22:10:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8507338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JPeterson/pseuds/JPeterson
Summary: Blue was - for all that Piper tried not to think about it - someone that she could very, very easily fall very, very hard for.





	1. Intoxication

**Author's Note:**

> HrmghurnghFINE, so I got impatient and wanted to write smut; sue me. Except, y'know, _don't._ Unless you wanna take over my mortgage.
> 
> For reference, this is in no way related to _Moments in Time._ Both of our leading ladies are going to be different from their counterparts in this one, and I'm swapping to past tense since it feels like an age since I last used it and I'd rather not get any rustier.
> 
>  **Warnings:**  
>  For alcohol, angst, smut, drunk sex, semi-public sex, and miscommunication unbecoming of a journalist.
> 
> Enjoy.

The first time was at the Dugout, in the wee hours of a Diamond City morning where Blue had been flush with well-deserved pride; with hope and a belief that she could find a place in this unfamiliar world, and with enough caps that way too many people had crowded around Vadim's bar to share in excitement and moonshine. Nick Valentine and his residency tended to divide opinions, but everyone could at least agree that the market was cold while the inn was warm. Hot, really; humid with the press of intoxicated bodies and loud with a thousand conversations trying to drown out both each other and the radios that played as hard as they could to be heard over the din.

Piper, for once, was _not_ at the center of the chaos, but instead standing in a corner where everything was a little less loud and she could talk to Blue without either of them needing to shout in the other's ear. She was also reasonably sure that she was the most sober person in attendance; having had a large enough sample of Bobrov's Best to know her limits with it.

She didn't mind. There were plenty of highly entertaining, drunk people to watch, and someone needed to make sure that the visiting vault dweller didn't finish out the party passed out in a corner.

That, among other things, was what friends were for - even new ones earned chiefly through surviving danger together - and Piper spent a lot of time hiding a smile behind the neck of her beer bottle because Blue, apparently, was a very cute drunk.

“I found him!”

“I know,” she repeated for the Nth time in the past fifteen minutes, and tried _really hard_ to not laugh at the wide, astonished eyes. “Why do you keep sounding so surprised by that?”

“Because _I found him,”_ Blue whispered – or it was probably supposed to _be_ a whisper – and gave Piper's arm a little shake as if the importance of that fact wasn't coming across. “In _a vault.”_

“That you did, Blue.”

“I mean, how many people do that?” Blue's voice had a definite slur to it – one that matched the gentle sort of inattentiveness in her eyes - but at least not enough of one that Piper couldn't understand her. “'S a lot more room to hide people below ground than above, so sir-- seriously. How many?”

"Not nearly enough," Piper easily agreed, since that was the simple truth. Very few people would risk life and limb for the sake of a stranger. Nick, in fact, had been one of the few to do that, which had left him rather down on his luck in terms of rescue until Blue had turned up.

"'M proud of that," Blue told her. "Y'know? Feels kinda like 'M bein' full of myself, but I am."

"Full of yourself?" Piper teased, and had to hide another grin behind a swallow of beer at the glare. "Or proud?"

"Last one."

"And deservedly so." She held out her beer, and waited until Blue's glass clinked against it with perhaps a little more force than needed. "For the record, I'm proud of you, too."

Blue frowned at her for a few seconds, and then grinned; her head lolling to the side until it was resting against the wall they were both leaning on. "I want that in writing."

"Har har." More than halfway to shitfaced and Piper still found her charming, even when she was being a smartass. "I take requests, you know. But you have to pay me."

"In what?"

"Useful things." She wasn't too good at holding that gaze for long periods of time - Blue's eyes were too vibrant; too _intense_ \- so she lit a cigarette because it let her focus on that for a second. "Smokes, cola or caps are usually safe bets where I'm concerned."

"'S a seven day wonder you're still here, with that diet."

"Right." Piper returned the dry look with one of her own, but took care to blow the smoke _away_ from Blue. "Because those are literally the only things I eat or drink, and I physically ingest a handful of caps at least three times a day." She waited for the other woman to scowl, and gave her a light jab with one elbow. "Seriously, Blue; relax. I appreciate the concern and all, but I'm also guessing you've been around here long enough to figure out that most people don't exactly die of old age."

"You're not most people," was the response; said in a tone more serious than Piper had expected her to be capable of in her current state. "And you're my friend. I worry."

It was sweet, and Piper kind of hoped that she'd end up wrong in expecting those sorts of things to become more common the longer they knew each other. She doubted it, though. Blue just _cared_ – for everything and everyone – and maybe that had been normal back before the bombs, but it sure as hell wasn't normal _now_. In fact, it made her new friend stick out like a feral in the middle of a super mutant hive, and Piper would have worried a heck of a lot more about her in return if Blue wasn't as capable as she was of taking care of herself. And anyone in a ten mile radius.

“Well, don't,” she therefore told her, but softened the words with a smile. “I'm fine. Alright?”

“Hrmph.” Blue obviously wasn't convinced, but took a gulp from her glass and seemed willing to let sleeping mongrels lie. For the moment, anyway. “If y'say so.” She nodded for four seconds straight, and then started like something had bitten her. “Oh! Requests!” The hand holding the glass shot out and spilled a few sloshes onto the floor while Vadim's booming laugh - at least for a few seconds – could be heard above the low roar of the crowd. “How much for 'n article about me gettin' ol' Nicky out?”

Piper was doing her damnedest to keep a straight face. “Gee, 'Woman Out Of Time', I'da thought you'd already had your fifteen minutes of fame.”

“That is _not_ the same thing,” was the impervious answer; complete with an accusatory index finger that would have jabbed her in the nose if she hadn't jerked her head back. “All I had t'do for that was get conned 'nto an icebox an' come back out.”

Eh, good point. One Piper was kind of relieved to hear, too, since it wouldn't have been the first time someone got addicted to what small level of fame a mention in the Publick could grant. McDonough needed a support group all his own, it seemed. “True,” she agreed; taking a swig of her beer and peering out across the jovial crowd. “Getting Nick out was something you chose to do.”

“Right.” Another four seconds of nodding, and Piper had to hide another smile – seriously, how did this woman make her _smile so damn much_ – as she reached out and put her hand under Blue's chin to still it. “Couldn't pick an' choose with the vault, y'know?”

Go in, or get burned alive by nuclear radiation. “I guess not.” She let the beer bottle dangle between two fingers and took a drag; watching from the corner of her eye as Blue peered into her own glass and her expression – just for a scant second – dropped into the one that she wore when she was thinking about exactly what had happened to her. “Hey.” Piper hated that expression, and had long since decided to do what she could to get rid of it when it showed up. “Was that a serious question? Because you know that's already an article in the works, right?”

It worked. Blue's features cleared and then scrunched in mild incomprehension, and she spent a few seconds quietly watching Piper as if she wasn't entirely sure what to make of her.

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah?” Piper didn't hide the grin this time. “I mean, come on, Blue; complete stranger heroically saves Diamond City resident, and before the very eyes of the city's very own reporter?” She waggled her eyebrows, and let her grin widen when Blue chuckled and flushed all at once. “I'd get lynched if I _didn't_ write it, especially since this story actually comes with a happy ending.”

“Well, thanks.” She got a smile out of that, but it was all too soon replaced by a sigh as Blue rubbed at her forehead. “An' now I feel stupid for askin' in the first place.”

“Why?”

A longer sigh, and Blue took a healthy swallow of her own drink before training her eyes firmly on the stained ceiling. “Feels dumb to ask for that sorta thing, y'know? Like... I shouldn't feel the need to _ask_ for praise for doin' the right thing.” A second mouthful, and Piper watched quietly as those eyes dropped back down to meet her own. “'S the right thing to do. Anybody woulda done the same.”

Sometimes, Piper mused, it was very, very obvious just how new Blue really was to the Commonwealth. “If that was the case, don't you think Nick would've been out of there long before you showed up?” She waited for Blue to shrug noncommittally, and watched her head drop forward this time. “Blue, doing the right thing takes the right _person_ , too, and there honestly aren't a whole lot of those around. In fact, the Great, Green Jewel is home to a grand total of _one_.” The cigarette found a hold between her lips, and Piper held up a single finger in demonstration. “Nick himself.”

“Two,” was the quiet correction; followed by an elaboration when Piper cocked her head. “Nick _and_ you.”

Hrm. Piper felt the flush crawl up her neck, and did her level best to force it back down. “Yeah, okay. So right person _and_ right time,” she amended. “I'd been away, remember? I only even got back _into_ the city because of you.” She got a bordering-on-illegally-cute nose wrinkle for that one, and leaned over enough for their shoulders to bump. Lightly, just in case anything harder would send her new friend sprawling. “Don't sell yourself short, Blue. Right person, right place, right time, and you did the right thing at the risk of your own life. No crime in wanting your efforts recognized.”

“Ah.” Blue only nodded for two seconds this time. “So 'M not bein' a self-important ass?”

Piper almost snorted her beer. “Hell no!”

“'Kay.” Another nod – just one – followed by a hesitant look and a slight, almost shy duck of Blue's head. “Can I hug you?”

The simplest answer was to pull her in, and so Piper did just that; at least after setting aside their respective drinks and stubbing out what was left of her cigarette. A hug in and of _itself_ was simple – a common gesture of affection between friends, family, or particularly excited strangers – so there really was no reason for how _right_ this one felt; for the sheer peace that stole over her when Blue's arms curled around her shoulders or for how every worry in the world just seemed to vanish in an instant.

Maybe that was just the effect Blue had on people. God above knew that she had a gift for inspiring confidence in others; that she was all at once sweet and fierce and kind and dangerous; vulnerable and powerful and sensitive and protective, all dependent on whether you were someone she cared about, or someone who _threatened_ those she cared about.

Piper counted herself at least nine different kinds of blessed to be counted among the former. Ten now, really, since hugs like these should rightly be a blessing all their own. Blue was so unbelievably special in ways she didn't even realize; someone who stood up for others who couldn't stand on their own; who didn't wait to be _asked_ for help, but gave it freely and wanted nothing in return, simply because it was the right thing to do.

Who, for all that Piper tried not to think about it – which was a whole hell of a lot – was someone that she could very, very easily fall very, very hard for.

Bad idea, she reminded herself as Blue pulled back enough for their eyes to meet. She didn't need to fall for a straight woman, and certainly not for a straight, _newly widowed_ woman who wasn't even sure of her place in the world she'd woken up to; of who she was or should be or wanted to be, or anything else that wasn't directly related to finding her kidnapped child. Bad, bad, _bad_ idea, and while her head was completely on board with that fact, it was clear from how Blue hadn't moved – hadn't been _asked_ or nudged _into_ moving - that convincing her body was going to take a little more effort.

Words were her specialty, though, so she chuckled even under the slightly hazy, calculating look and fished for something flippant, and found the whole thing dying in her throat when Blue kissed her.

It was downright embarrassing, the sound that escaped her; low and breathy and _wanting_ , and Piper wasn't sure if she pulled or Blue pushed, but the concrete wall was cold against her back while Blue was suddenly, intimately, _scorchingly_ hot against her front. The softness of a woman stretched across the wiry strength of a survivor in every sense of the word, and everything was filled to overflowing with _Blue,_ from the sweet-sour taste of Bobrov's Best right on down to the scent of the wasteland that mixed with the odd, faintly plastic smell of the vault suit.

 _Fuck,_ she needed to stop this. Blue was _drunk_ , for God's sake, and they were only barely hidden by loud voices and poor lighting in this little corner.

 _She's not_ _ **that**_ _drunk,_ some insidious part of her mind interjected; apparently the part that was in control, because Piper just _could not_ make herself push Blue away or even break from that warm mouth. _Clear-headed enough to hold a conversation, isn't she? To_ _ **say**_ _what she wants? Why wouldn't she be aware of what she's_ _ **doing**_ _?_

That-- well, that was... sort of a good point, she decided fuzzily; her mind swirling harder with every press of those lips and pretty much going all the way down the drain from as little as the slip of a hand onto the skin of her waist, because even with the alcohol thick on her tongue Blue tasted _fucking amazing_ and felt even better; her hair like silk between Piper's fingers and her rasping exhales hot against her skin.

They did break, though, if only by a breath; Piper flushed and kind of shaky and probably looking like every last thing she was thinking, and Blue just... close. Panting, a bit, with her cheeks a little redder than normal and her eyes...

 _Christ_ , those eyes. Piper had to close her own because if she'd thought them to be intense before, that was _nothing_ compared to now.

Blue didn't pull away, though. Instead, the tip of her nose was the faintest caress over Piper's cheek as those soft lips traced her jaw; slow and oddly hesitant, just like the thumb that moved in gentle strokes across the skin above her navel. Waiting, almost; to be pulled away. To be stopped.

It would be so easy to. All she'd have to do was fold her fingers around Blue's wrist and tug, or give the front of her shoulder a little push. Simple, really, and probably smart, because while Blue _clearly_ wasn't as straight as she'd originally thought, she _was_ drunk. Not enough to not know what she was doing, but enough that things like consequences were probably pretty easy to ignore in favor of actions. Enough to just go with what felt good right now, and not worry about what it would or would not mean further down the line.

Even teeth scraped lightly over the skin behind her jaw, and Piper cursed roundly in her own head for all of one second before giving Blue's hair a firm tug and claiming those lips again.

Fuck it; life was short. Smart people learned to take the good parts where they found them, and this was _definitely_ a good part. Even if it never became anything other than drunken fumblings in a dark corner, this was _Blue_ ; fresh-faced and determined and absolutely _crackling_ with a thousand legends in the making, and if she'd decided to aim that laser focus Piper's way, then Piper wasn't going to be foolish enough to deny her. She knew, at least, that Blue wasn't thinking of an ex, because the obvious choice among _those_ had been unequivocally male, and she _really_ doubted that that memory would have made that knee – that _thigh_ – slip between her own and _press_ until there was hot skin under Piper's nails and Blue could swallow the hitching groan with her own mouth.

Blue's eyes were open, too. Heavily lidded, but _open_ and _dark_ and sharp as steel; as if Piper's face right in this moment was the most desirable thing she'd ever seen. Still a little hazy, sure, but it was a haze of _want_ much more than one of alcohol, and Piper met that look for as long as she could; wound her fingers tighter in soft hair and only lost the battle with her eyelids when gentle teeth closed around her lower lip while a firm hand curled around her hip and _tugged._

“ _Fuck,_ Blue...”

“Shh.”

 _Shit_. Right; other people. Something that should really serve as incentive to _stop this_ – or at least move it somewhere else – except the crowd was roaring louder and everyone was facing away from them; probably due to what sounded like fist fight developing because people and booze was a dumb mix that way. Not that Piper had a lot of room to talk since Blue was more intoxicating than any amount of moonshine; from the taste of her breathing to the heat of her exhales all the way down to the steady grasp at her hip and the feathery brush of warm fingers over her ribs.

It took a pathetically short time, honestly. Mere _minutes_ of this; of the heat of Blue's body holding her against the wall while her hand guided her into slow, steady motion; of the repeated, firm-but-not-enough-but- _really_ -enough press of her thigh and the slow, light tugs of her lips and teeth against the side of Piper's throat while puffs of hard breathing warmed her skin, and all Piper could do was hold tighter to that sturdy back until her nails and teeth were _both_ catching on Vault-Tec blue and she had to almost choke on her own _breathing_.

“Just like this,” Blue husked against her ear; her breathing hot and her lips warm and wet when they closed around her earlobe and Piper shuddered against her. “Let me feel you.”

Jesus _fuck._ Piper forced back one moan after the other until her throat ached from the effort; her lips pulling back in a half-snarl and her teeth pressing into the vault suit while her fingers clawed at Blue's back because the inseam was _right there._ Just a few more seconds. Just _one more press_ of Blue's thigh against her; one more brush of that thumb against her breast; one more drag of those teeth over her skin. Just... one.... _more._

“ _Sh-- ngh!”_ The crowd howled at the fighters and Piper _whimpered_ into Blue's shoulder; grasping at her back and shoulders and hair while the coil in her belly wound tight enough to _snap_ and her entire body stuttered. Once, twice, with Blue's scent filling every gasping breath and Blue's warm weight holding her shaking form steady while Piper bit her lip until she almost tasted blood from the effort to keep _quiet_.

“I've got you,” Blue whispered. “I've got you.”

Yeah, she sure did, Piper wryly agreed; feeling her own hands twitch before loosening and her breathing begin to settle in her aching chest. That was kind of the problem.

"Shit." The slow sigh warmed her cheek, and the hands that had been so sure and steady and _welcome_ now suddenly grew uncertain. "Jesus, Piper; I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"-- finish the night off that way?" She took care to keep her voice light and twist her lips into a smile, and reminded herself that she had _expected_ this, even if she had also perhaps hoped differently. Actions and consequences. "It's fine, Blue. Not like I was stopping you."

"... no." Halting and soft as Blue pulled back; face red and eyes down. "But--"

"But nothing," Piper told her firmly. "We're drunk," she reminded her, and felt more sober than she could ever remember being. "Shit happens in that state."

"Yeah." There was another low sigh, as well as a wry little twist of Blue's mouth as her hands retreated. "I guess it does."

"There you go." Keeping a joking tone wasn't exactly _easy,_ but it was at least doable, and the best thing she could think of to do when faced with the odd sort of tightness in those eyes and the way they kept flitting off to one side instead of meeting her own. "So relax, okay? Let's just call it a fluke and table it."

"Sure." Blue bit her lip and nodded, and Piper secured her dwindling beer bottle and tried to look as unaffected as she sounded. "So... no weirdness?"

"No." She chuckled against the mouth of the bottle and drained it. "But I do need to go sleep this off. Once I'm sure my legs can hold me long enough for the walk home, anyway."

The reaction to _that_ was interesting. Blue turned red enough to rival Piper's coat, and her expression ran a marathon starting from shock through suspicion, all the way via consideration and past sheepish into pleased. And smug. Not overtly so, but definitely smug, and Piper would have wanted to slap that look right off her face if it hadn't been so damned cute.

This whole 'no falling for a (not so) straight woman' thing would be a lot easier if the (not so) straight woman in question wasn't so fucking adorable.

“I--” Blue started and then immediately stopped herself; her lips pursing even as she shook her head. “Y'know what? No. I'm just gonna quit while I'm ahead,” she decided; running a hand through her hair and favoring Piper with a crooked, little grin. “Pretty sure anything I can think of to say to that would just _make_ things weird.”

“Probably,” Piper conceded and folded her arms; the corner of her mouth quirking upwards even as her stomach twisted with disappointment. “So don't push your luck.”

“Nope.” Blue gave her head a firm shake and held up both hands. “No luck-pushing happening here. No, Ma'am.” Much to Piper's amusement, she even _backed away_ as she spoke. “In fact, I'm gonna go find Yefim and get a room to pass out in before I end up saying something stupid anyway. G'night!”

“Sleep tight,” Piper called after her; watching the bright blue of the vault suit wind its way through the crowd until she could no longer see it, and only _then_ letting her eyes slip shut and her head fall back.

Actions and consequences.

She lit another cigarette once she made it out of the Dugout; not because the walk to the Publick was even a remotely long one, but because something about the glow of the ember and the swirl of smoke helped her think. Her head was spinning; not because of alcohol or stories or the adrenaline that came with trying to not get killed, but because she _felt_ so many things all at once that she could barely keep them straight.

Elation.

Disappointment.

Resignation.

Frustration.

So close. She'd been so _fucking_ close to just _maybe_ getting something she wanted; so fucking close that she'd been able to _taste it_ , right there on the minute lines in Blue's lips. For a brief, breathtaking second, she'd even believed that maybe she'd actually get it, too.

That was the worst part, and she privately swore at herself as she found a worn bench at the side of the abandoned road and dropped to a seat there in the pre-dawn light. Damn it, she _knew better_. That sort of thing just didn't work out in her favor, and she was too fucking _smart_ to lose sight of that hard-earned lesson; even - _especially –_ in the face of those eyes and that _smile_ , because even if Blue had been in a state of mind where she could _consider_ maybe moving on from her husband and his murder, she sure as hell deserved better than some loud-mouth, pushy reporter who couldn't even figure out when to get off her goddamn soap box.

Guilt, too, settled heavy in her stomach, because in spite of the disappointment, she couldn't quite manage to make herself regret. At least not anything other than the fact that she hadn't gotten the chance to see what that vault suit did such a poor job of hiding.

Piper let her head fall back against corrugated metal, and blew smoke at the waning stars.

Flukes and missteps.

Actions and consequences.

 


	2. Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be safe, people. For what it's worth, anyone who is scared right now is in my heart.

The second time was in Goodneighbor, and managed to catch Piper by surprise without surprising her at all. There had been no other flukes since that night in the Dugout, and though there _had_ been some amount of weirdness, both she and Blue had seemed bound and determined to not let it linger; enough that it had actually worked.

Blue wasn't proud this time. In fact, she was quiet – deathly so – and moved as if on automatic as they left the Memory Den. Piper was the only one who said goodbye to Nick, and while she was tempted to suggest a stiff drink or at least go for one herself, Blue looked as if she'd just witnessed the end of the world all over again and she really didn't want to leave her alone.

The silence made her heart ache. Not a word; not a look or a sigh or a sob. Nothing. Just silence.

Silent steps that followed her to the Rexford and waited while she booked the one room they had. A silent startle when she carefully caught Blue by the elbow. A silent pause in the middle of the room when Piper shut the door behind them, and not even a creak of the old springs in the mattress when Blue very slowly lay down on one side of the double bed and curled into a little ball.

Piper couldn't think of a single thing to say. She tried to help how she could, though; draped her coat over her friend in place of an actual blanket, and gave Blue what space she could on the bed. She didn't ask if Blue was okay because she so very obviously _wasn't_ , but she did settle a hand on Blue's shoulder in an attempt to at least _offer_ some kind of comfort.

She didn't realize that Blue was crying until the shoulder under her hand started stuttering from the force of it; huge, heaving, soundless sobs that shook her entire body and only got stronger when Piper curled around her back and pulled her in as tight as she could. Blue's hands wrapped around her lower arms in a white-knuckle grip but she didn't push her _away,_ so Piper curled tighter when Blue did; holding and rocking and _aching_ for her in ways she'd never imagined possible, and hoping that simply _being there_ was enough since she had very little else to offer.

When Blue tore herself loose only to spin around, Piper didn't stop her; didn't deny the hard kiss that tasted of salt and fear and the desperate need to feel _anything else._ She didn't push away the fevered hands that found her skin; just gasped against Blue's mouth and arched _into them_ , because the agony of feeling lost and alone and utterly helpless was one she knew as well as she did the urgency to drown it out – even if just for a moment - in whatever way you could.

There were certainly worse ways than this.

So when Blue's hands slipped up her sides, Piper arched her back and lifted her arms; _let_ the worn fabric be stripped from her torso and wound her fingers in Blue's hair when she came back down. She breathed her air and felt her heartbeat, and listened to her body settle while a warm mouth found her throat, her sternum, her chest. Strong hands pulled her tighter against a stronger body, and she sighed and moaned and _mewled_ into the night-darkened room; grasping at Blue's back and arms and shoulders and hearing her own voice break halfway through a cry when that touch slipped between her thighs and through so much wetness that it was almost embarrassing.

Blue watched her this time, too; eyes red-rimmed and glistening but deep and _intense_ , and so close that even in the lack of light, she could see them sharpen and darken when the touch moved down and in and _up_ until it was all she could to do dig her nails into Blue's back and _breathe._

She couldn't look away. Couldn't move or speak or do anything other than willingly and happily _surrender._ To Blue, or herself, or the fact that the heart wanted what it wanted and didn't much care what the head had to say. To those _eyes_ and that _touch_ and the way those lips caught _on_ her own before they _caught_ her own, and to the hand that cradled her face and stroked her cheek as she _keened_ into Blue's mouth. It was powerful and exhilarating and _terrifying_ , and she grabbed for Blue with any extremity that would move when her vision blanked in a flash of brilliant light; her heart exploding and imploding all at once while her breathing stuttered in her chest and her soul shook harder than her body.

“ _Fuck,”_ she breathed when she came down enough to do so, because that pretty much encapsulated everything she felt. Lighter, however, was probably better. “You've _definitely_ done that before.”

Blue puffed a hollow laugh against her cheek. “There's always that one girl in college,” she murmured, and Piper watched her watch _her;_ saw the tiny downturn at the corner of her mouth, the tug in her cheek and the tightening around her eyes.

She recognized the look in a second in spite of only ever seeing it once, and stopped the 'sorry' by pressing a single finger to kiss-swollen lips.

“Don't,” she told her. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Blue's smile was far more a grimace, and Piper held her close as she wept.

 


	3. Disappointment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first sentence may or may not be intentionally meta. I bought the Ezio Auditore collection and have focused on little else when not at work.
> 
> I'm not entirely happy with the smut in this chapter, but I can't figure out _why_ so I'm going to assume that I'm just being nitpicky for no reason.

It took ages for the third time to come around. Long enough, in fact, that Piper was halfway convinced it wouldn't happen at all, and that maybe she'd managed to deal with this damned, useless attraction enough that it had... not _gone away_ , per se, but at least dwindled to a point where it was no longer an issue. Their deepening friendship, after all, was the important thing, and she was far more interested in having Blue's trust than she was in having her body.

So their two flukes – much as she'd enjoyed them both and dearly wanted them to be something more - were just that, and she was dealing. She was learning to simply appreciate the company of her new friend – _best_ friend, now – and no longer felt her chest tighten with the memory of that one night in Goodneighbor every time Blue so much as touched her arm. She moved on enough that she could focus on warm, wry humor and quiet, insightful comments instead of lean, feminine muscularity, and it frankly felt a lot better this way, too, to be around Blue. It felt _healthier_.

Until Cait.

Cait was someone Piper had only ever seen in passing; someone she'd never personally interacted with, even if she'd heard stories from people returning from the Combat Zone, back before raiders took it over. Cait was a metric ton of trouble concealed in a deceptively slight, hot-headed package; all rough edges and crude words, and with a temper shorter than a wounded deathclaw defending its nest. Cait was the perfect example of someone who took every stupid risk in the book because she had everything to gain and nothing to lose, and was a shameless, roguishly charming flirt, to boot.

All of that would have been fine if she hadn't turned those charms on Blue, and while Piper was self-aware enough to know that it only pissed her off because Cait was doing what she herself was too scared to, the knowledge really didn't help.

Cait was fighting-Irish, bullheaded determination with every goddamned step she took. She saw something she wanted and _went for it_ with all the subtlety of a charging yao guai _,_ and left very little room for anyone to misunderstand her intentions. That much Piper could at least respect, even if she also wanted to rip her fucking arm off whenever she saw her place a not-very-innocent hand on the small of Blue's back; low enough that she'd be palming her ass if it slipped by a bare inch.

She tried to be an adult about it. Blue and her had agreed – _again_ \- that the flukes were just that, so Piper had no right to be jealous and knew it. Blue wanted her as a _friend,_ and she respected that – respected _Blue_ – too much to push her less platonic attentions on someone who had made it abundantly clear that she wasn't interested. And it helped, somewhat, to also watch Blue gently dissuade Cait; to see her put a little more distance between them when they spoke, and to identify the interest in Cait's eyes as more sexual than anything else.

'More than', however, was not the same as 'exclusively', and while Cait was many things, impatient was not one of them; Piper had learned to read people well enough to see that much. Instant gratification was definitely the preferable option, but if she truly wanted something, she was the type who would bide her time until the opportunity presented itself; who would wait and watch and work _slowly._

Piper tried to convince herself that the idea didn't terrify her, and only worked harder at it when Blue and Cait went off on their own and left her in Diamond City.

“She's so _angry_ at everything,” Blue told her; on the steps of Publick Occurrences in the pale light of a way too early morning, with Cait yawning demonstratively halfway up the steps to the Fens. “I want to know why. Maybe I can help her.”

“If anyone could, it'd be you,” Piper sighed, and cursed her heart for beating a little faster because of _course_ Blue wanted to help; Blue could find a single cap in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere and want to track down the person who'd dropped it. “Be careful, alright?” she murmured; hugging her maybe a little longer than was appropriate, and feeling the warmth of Blue's cheek against the side of her head. “I have a feeling that one'll get into the most awful kinds of trouble.”

“Oh, right.” There was a low, amused snort by her ear, and then everything went dark when Blue pulled back and tugged the brim of Piper's press cap down over her eyes. “And I have _no_ experience with people like that.”

Smartass. Piper gave her a shove as she resettled her hat, and glowered for as long as she could when faced with the way those eyes twinkled in the winter sunlight.

So about two seconds. “Well, at least I can rest easy knowing that you've learned from the very best.”

"Like no one ever was," Blue agreed; with a half-smile that told Piper she was making some sort of pre-war reference that only a handful of people would understand. "Try not to get kicked out of the city while you don't have my calming influence, wouldja?"

Piper rolled her eyes. "This from the woman who cheerfully wandered off into the _Glowing Sea,"_ she needled gently. "You're not exactly a shining example of rationality, Blue."

"Pot, something-something, kettle." Blue hugged her again, though - several seconds longer that the first one - and Piper felt the light, but definite press of lips against her temple. "See you soon."

"You'd better."

It wasn't really surprising how much it hurt to watch Blue walk away. How much it hurt every one of the following days to know that she was out there where most were just as likely to shoot you as smile at you, and that if something _should_ happen to her, Piper wouldn't know for days or weeks or more. Sure, Blue could take care of herself, but she also had this wonderful, horrible instinct to take care of everyone else _first_ , and while Piper knew that _she_ could keep her cool and her head down when needed, she didn't dare trust Cait to do the same.

How likely was it that Cait would charge into something without thinking? That Blue would charge after her to protect her, and that one or both of them would get hurt or killed in the process? Piper tried not to think about that, but it was a lot like trying not to think of a purple radstag. The only things that managed to actually distract her were Nat and her own writings, and even those only worked for a few minutes at a time.

How likely was it that Blue maybe felt - or _could_ feel - something deeper for Cait? As history had so eloquently proven, she was at the very least _open_ to the idea of two women together, and the fact that she didn't feel that way about Piper certainly didn't automatically disqualify anyone else. Not now; not after several months in the post-war world; months to process and grieve and _move on_ and _damn_ , she was cursing herself for that night at the Dugout because if she'd just not _given in_ to herself, maybe she could have developed something else with Blue. Even if that _hadn't_ happened, she at least wouldn't know what she was missing; wouldn't have learned what those hands and those lips felt like on her skin, or how Blue could touch her soul with the faintest brush of her fingers. Wouldn't have worried if maybe she could also do that to Cait, or if Cait could do the same to her, in turn.

She only thought about it more as the days passed; growing increasingly agitated and struggling to focus on her work, which in turn irritated her further because she was a _grown-ass woman_ and she _made her bed_ and would just have to _lie in it_. She knew better than anyone else how the wasteland took far more than it gave, and how it getting used to _anything_ positive was basically asking to get kicked in the face. So no more flukes, Piper firmly instructed herself. No more mooning or pining or whatever else came up, and certainly no more of this childish, irrational jealousy.

Blue was offering the truest, warmest friendship Piper had ever known, and to be unsatisfied with that was ridiculous. So she would accept it and be _happy_ , and _stop_ being such a pathetic, fucking whiner just because the world couldn't be made up of rainbows and unicorn farts. She wasn't stupid enough to think it would be easy, but while it would undoubtedly take time, it _could_ be done. It had to.

And if Blue ended up finding someone who made _her_ happy... well, then Piper would be happy _for_ her.

But it was hard when Blue came back; when Piper saw her in the market and smiled and waved, and Blue _didn't even notice_. It was hard to watch her head cant as Cait set a hand on her shoulder and leaned up to whisper something in her ear, and to watch Blue roll her eyes while Cait smirked, because it spoke of a familiarity between them that had so far been exclusive to _her,_ and that stung.

Still, she was an adult, and she really couldn't expect Blue to seek her out at every possible opportunity. Hell, for all Blue knew Piper wasn't even in the city, so she firmly told herself to suck it up and went about her day; herding her wandering thoughts into work and possible leads to track down, and reminding herself whenever they started to stray that Blue was _not_ at her beck and call; that she had _every right_ to spend time around others.

It almost worked, too. All the same, the heavy heat lingered low in her chest; burning like an itchy scar that she couldn't reach to scratch, and the sour taste wouldn't leave her mouth no matter how many gumdrops she popped or how many cigarettes she smoked as she laid out and went over her notes for upcoming articles.

Damn it all. But she could at least put up a happy front for Blue, and so found a smile when she heard the door creak open and the sound of familiar footsteps – one set – against the wood floor.

“The wandering relic returns,” she called without turning, and had to bite back a snicker at the answering scoff.

“I'm not _that_ much older than you.”

“Nah; only about 210 years, give or take.” Piper moved a few pages around, and tried to focus on _those_ rather than on the replay of the scene in the market that was currently showing on the insides of her eyelids whenever she blinked. “Wh--” _Where's your tagalong?_ It was right on the tip of her tongue, so she bit it back and took a breath because _Jesus, Piper; adult_. “Where's Cait?”

“Getting rooms at the Dugout.” Blue's footsteps kept approaching, and Piper was almost too distracted by her own relief at the plural to notice. “Or, if she's already done that, probably challenging some poor soul to either a drinking- or an arm-wrestling contest, depending on her mood.” The steps halted, and Piper made a few hastily scrawled notations in the margin of one page. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah; sure.” Notes. Paper. Focus. _Adult._ “Why do you ask?”

“Well, far be it from me to set myself up for a quip about my vanity, but I was kinda hoping that you'd want to look at me after not seeing me for three weeks.” Blue's tone was an odd sort of tightly joking, but then eased almost immediately. “Or did I just come at a bad time?”

“No, Blue.” Piper blew _out_ a breath this time; carding a hand through her hair as she turned because the absolute _last_ thing she wanted was to take her frustrations out on the one person who was completely without blame. “I'm sorry. It's just been a bit of a day.”

She recognized the faint cant of Blue's head and that concerned little furrow in her brow before the response even came, and Piper _ached_ and smiled because that was _so typical,_ and she helplessly fell just that little bit harder.

“Anything I can do?”

 _Pick me_. But she bit that back too and instead held out her hands, because Blue didn't deserve to carry the extra baggage of her insecurities. “Forgive me for being distracted and impolite and give me a hug?”

“Aw.” Blue pulled her in and held her close, and Piper tried not to simply melt into her because it hurt as good as it felt. “You almost sound like you missed me.”

“Jackass.” She said it on a laugh, though; felt the rhythm of Blue's breathing under her hands and against her body, and the unrivaled safety that came with having those arms around her. “Of course I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” The words were soft against the shell of her ear; bright with a smile that she could _feel_ , and her heart skipped a beat and then almost _stopped_ when Blue's lips brushed skin that wasn't quite her mouth but also not quite her cheek, because the embrace was warm and _right_ and only broke enough for those eyes to smile right into hers.

Piper hadn't gotten to where she was by playing it safe. She had taken bigger risks and larger leaps of faith than almost any other person she could think of, and had certainly also needed to change tactics often when in the process of chasing down a story or charming leads or answers from the people she came across. Risks and leaps, but _calculated_ ones; all based on the faintest hints and signals that she'd trained herself to pick up on since the day her father was murdered. She had a finely honed instinct for seeing the truth – or at least for seeing signs that tended to point her in that direction – and while following that instinct didn't always work out, her batting average was well high enough that taking the chance was worth it.

The brush of Blue's lips in that spot – the warmth in her eyes as they stood like this – all of it was a gray area; from the press of her palm against the small of Piper's back to the softness of her hair between Piper's fingers. But it was enough of a gray area, her gut insisted, that it _suggested_ something. Small, subtle and not enough be anything even _approaching_ sure, but _something_.

There was every chance that she was wrong, of course; they had talked – had _agreed_ – on this more than once, but there was also the tiny, off chance that she was _right_ , and Piper wasn't about to let it pass her by.

Just in case, though, she moved slow; curling her fingers around the back of Blue's neck, but also pausing when their noses brushed and she could feel the way her breathing stuttered for a bare, split second. She _watched_ those eyes more carefully than she could remember watching anything else; the way they widened for a single heartbeat and then relaxed, and only then craned her neck enough for their lips to brush.

It was softer this time. Slower; probably because they were both sober and no one was in the tight grip of intense emotion, which somehow made the whole thing more real. She got the pleasure of watching Blue's eyes slip shut before her own did the same; of feeling the warm rush of her breathing and the way a hand pressed against her spine to bring her _closer,_ and something inside of her _thrilled_ at how Blue didn't taste of either booze or tears, because _maybe..._

Just maybe.

Piper felt the edge of the table against the backs of her thighs, and chuckled when she tightened her fingers in Blue's hair in exchange for a hard breath; nudging her until they'd swapped places and she could hear the whisper of papers being pushed to the floor. “Nuh-uh,” she murmured; sliding a slow touch down the front of Blue's throat and feeling it move in a swallow when her fingers closed around the vault suit's zipper. “I seem to remember owing you at _least_ one.”

“Didn't know we were counting,” was the breathless reply; followed by a gasp that sent tingles down her spine when her mouth found the soft skin below Blue's jaw.

“Just trying to keep things even.” The little hollow just behind Blue's earlobe was _exquisitely_ sensitive, or so she guessed when she pressed the tip of her tongue against it and felt Blue shudder; a moan catching in her throat and long fingers tightening around the back of Piper's neck. “Stop me if you want to.”

“I don't want to. I mean, I don't want to sss--” The hiss came when Piper used her teeth, and she heard the table creak when Blue's palm slapped against it and her weight bore down. “-- _stop_ you.”

“Good.” Because the way Blue's breath hitched was intoxicating and she didn't _want_ to stop; wanted, in fact, to hear more of it, and got her wish when she nudged her back further and pressed closer; until she was standing between Blue's open knees and could hear nothing other than her rasping breathing and the low _click-click-click_ of the suit's zipper as she tugged it down.

How long, she wondered as she slipped a hand under stiff, protective fabric and onto soft skin, had it been since anyone had touched Blue like this? Did she press this hard into Piper's touch because the last one she knew had been her husband's, over two centuries ago? Or was she just always this responsive and had – in the bare five months she'd spent in the post-war world – found one or two other lucky souls to pull those _sounds_ from her throat, just to forget?

Selfishly, she hoped not. The thought of anyone else's mouth against Blue's throat – of any other hands on this woman but her own – called to the most jealous, possessive part of her, so she pressed her teeth into Blue's skin in exchange for a ragged breath against her own ear, and felt the tremble under her fingers when her nails raked across the curve of Blue's ribs.

The hand in her hair wound tighter, and when Piper curled an arm around her and tugged until their bodies pressed together, Blue's gasp was hot against her cheek.

“ _Jesus,_ Piper...”

 _Fuck,_ what that voice did to her. It pulled chords deeper in her than anything else ever had; grabbed her by the guts and _twisted_ until her head felt hazy and fevered and all she could focus on was the body under her hands and lips. Blue was alternately soft skin and hard muscle and perfect _everything_ under her fingers; arching closer and pulling her in so tight that Piper could feel the hand against the back of her own head tremble with the effort. She was breathless and guttural and more than Piper had ever imagined her to possibly be, and though the vault suit was snug and the angle certainly wasn't the easiest, Piper had never been one to let a little personal discomfort get in the way.

Especially not when it was so, _so_ worth it. Blue was very clearly anything _but_ uncomfortable; save perhaps for the strain in the one arm that was keeping her from falling back onto the table. That, at least, was relatively short lived, considering how the arm in question gave out when Piper curled her fingers and Blue dropped onto her elbow with a sharp _thud_ and a worryingly loud creak of wood.

“Don't break my table unless you're prepared to fix it,” Piper murmured; sinking onto one elbow herself and feeling the brush of hot skin all along the inside of her arm when her palm pressed down.

“Less concern for the furniture,” Blue hissed; fingers curling tightly in Piper's hair as her back warped. “More concern for the woman on it.”

Piper chuckled against slick skin and pressed _up_ with her fingers, and the sharp curse was only halfway spoken when her mouth found the spot below Blue's ear again; latching on and _sucking_ until the hand in her hair tightened enough to sting and a long, low keen was vibrating against her lips. “This type of concern?”

“ _Fuck!”_

She'd take that as a yes, Piper decided, and smiled against the mark she'd made because while this was not entirely comfortable, it was still warm and playful and felt so _right_ that she forgot all about worries or doubts or even _Cait;_ focusing only on her touch and how Blue reacted to it, the fresh tang of Blue's skin against her tongue and the way the voice by her ear broke _so deliciously_ when Blue's trembling legs fell open wider and the constricting vault suit pushed her that much deeper, and that much firmer. Her name – _her name_ – fell from those lips in an endless, choked echo; sometimes fully, sometimes a syllable, sometimes barely a single letter before the hold on her hair tightened and those hot, ragged exhales painted the side of her throat.

Perfect. Blue was; _they_ were; _this_ was, and Piper let herself be pulled so close that she _swore_ she could feel every beat of Blue's racing heart in her own chest; kissed her and touched her and felt her still completely for a second that lasted a century and made something low in her gut clench in sympathy. Perfect and passionate and _primal;_ like the way Blue's entire body then _jerked,_ like how her fingers grabbed and raked at Piper's scalp and hair and neck, and like the low, guttural sounds that passed from her mouth to Piper's on short, hitching breaths.

It was completely intentional and yet entirely instinctive how every last one of Piper's senses sharpened. How she heard her, saw her, felt her, tasted her and inhaled her scent all at once; how the entire world just _faded_ until the only thing she was truly and unequivocally aware of was Blue; trembling against her, holding onto her as if for dear life and coming so beautifully undone below her that Piper actually let herself _believe._

“Shit,” Blue breathed as the lines of her body loosened; slumping back against the table and closing her eyes while Piper pressed a kiss to the base of her throat. “We should probably stop having these flukes, huh?”

“Yeah.” She was glad, somewhere in the back of her mind, that her face was hidden in the crook of Blue's neck and shoulder, because that meant that she could fake the smile in her voice even as she closed her eyes to alleviate the way they burned. “We probably should.”

_Stupid._

 


	4. Hesitance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go hug your loved ones, guys. I apologize for the long disappearance. Everything worked out in the end, thankfully.

The fourth time _wasn't going to happen._ Piper decided that much before they'd finished straightening themselves up from the third, and actually managed to stick to her proverbial guns this time, too. Blue had a point, after all; even if her reasons for the point in question were worlds apart from Piper's own.

Not that she knew what Blue's reasons actually _were,_ since they hadn't really... talked; at least not about anything relating to those three times. Piper could guess, though, and figured that she was pretty on the money with how they'd managed to slide right back into simple – if deep – friendship; easy and familiar, at least as long as there weren't any more flukes.

She wasn't going to let them have the _option_ of any more flukes. She didn't avoid Blue, but she _did_ avoid certain circumstances with her; times where they would be alone a little too long, a little too physically affectionate, or maintain a little too much eye contact. Essentially, she did her level best to remove temptation for both of them, and by the time two months had passed, she decided that she seemed to be succeeding. They still spent plenty of time together – just not _together_ – and while part of Piper enjoyed the far less confusing way in which their friendship now worked, part of her also dearly missed the light, lingering touches even as she kept herself from moving close enough to give or receive them.

This was better for her, though; mentally and emotionally. She knew that.

She did get more work done, too, when she wasn't out and about with Blue and trying to keep either of them from getting killed. Hell, if Blue was off gallivanting around somewhere with Cait or Preston or – urgh – _Danse,_ it meant that Piper had time to do her own thing; to slip off on leads that she wouldn't dream of asking Blue along for, because Blue would say yes and Piper wanted to _move on;_ not fall harder.

So that was exactly what she did; setting off for Salem one clear, mid-spring morning, spending an ungodly amount of time tracking down and charming the local militia into interviews, and definitely making damn sure to avoid the old Museum of Witchcraft. That place gave off worse juju than even _she_ was going to mess with without backup.

Interviews secured without getting shot, poisoned or nigh-ritualistically executed, Piper started back towards Diamond City; one eye (and ear) kept out for potential enemies even her mind worked over both the potential articles and what - perhaps – it would be like to hang around Salem for a while and explore it with Blue. That wasn't an option at the moment for obvious reasons, but a creative mind meant a talent for daydreaming without falling fully into it, and so she picked her way out of the town ruins and back into the relative familiarity of the wasteland.

" _How the hell do you get articles out of stuff like that?" Blue would ask, and send her a look that would be a fairly even mix of curious and confused. "I mean, I feel for those guys, but really?"_

" _It's a gift," Piper would then reply; turning up her nose and restricting her grin for all the time that it would take for Blue to roll her eyes. "And a whole lot of practice."_

She kept herself entertained that way as she walked; mid-afternoon passing into early evening and the slowly sinking sun setting her shadow to stretching sideways across the soil. Her direction was anything but aimless, and she veered somewhat from her previous aim for Diamond City when the peak of the sky started to darken because while she wasn't going to make it to the Green Jewel by nightfall, the lay of the land was familiar enough for her to know that she had a second option close by that she _could_ make it to.

An old, pre-war bunker, in fact; one that should be relatively clean and stocked with enough necessities to last at least a few days, provided that no one had yet managed to break the sturdy lock she'd painstakingly constructed. A secure stopover when it was needed and – if push came to shove – a place for her and Nat to go if McDonough actually _did_ kick them out.

While the bunker was a lot closer than Diamond City, it was still far enough from Salem that it was dark before Piper was even near it; far more shadow than light meaning that she had to pick her way cautiously across the uneven terrain to keep from ending up with her face in the dirt. Decent night vision at least meant that she managed that much; moving steadily towards the bunker – as far as she could tell in the deepening darkness, anyway – without tripping over anything. It honestly surprised her a little, since the darkness meant that she was focusing a lot on her heading and therefore less on where she was actually _putting_ her feet, and even had so little focus left over for her hearing that she almost heard the footsteps too late.

Piper froze and – after barely keeping herself from sucking in a sharp breath - spotted the massive, hulking shadow moving in what was now solely the light of a waning moon.

Deathclaw.

_Shit._ Very slowly, she dropped to a crouch behind the crumbling ruin she'd been picking her way around; setting one hand flat against a rotting wall and breathing in slow, quiet measures as she strained her eyes. Her other hand could have gone for the pistol at her side, but even a 50 caliber bullet would be lucky to make a dent in a beast like this, and Piper was well aware that her 10 millimeter was currently nothing more than a very loud, very shiny paperweight. So no, she decided; better to leave that holstered and _not_ able to glint in the moonlight.

Instead, she reached for the ground without ever taking her eyes off the monster; fingertips searching over the soil until she could close her hand around a rock. That, at least, she could throw somewhere _else_ , and hopefully give herself a few very essential seconds if the wind changed and the need arose.

At the moment, though, the cool breeze hit her face and the deathclaw lumbered peacefully – or relatively so, anyway – along the cracked and sinking road a few dozen feet away; snuffling at the air but blissfully unaware of its audience and, Piper noted with relief, heading _away_ from the old bunker rather than towards it. She still stayed where she was until well after the beast was out of sight; measuring her breathing and counting the seconds in her head until she passed 500, and only _then_ straightening. Slowly. Her legs didn't appreciate her staying crouched for as long as she had, and she bit her lip to hold back a groan as she carefully stretched them out and pocketed the rock. Just in case.

Another few minutes – and a couple hundred, very quiet feet – had passed when a yell pierced the silence of the night, and Piper forgot all about stealth or bunkers or uneven ground as she spun on her heel and took off. She'd have done the same for a scream, but this yell had her heart leaping to her throat between one breath and the next.

The resuming silence was what scared her the most; settling around her like radiant fog and making her heart pound until spots danced at the edges of her vision. Piper ran faster, and had no idea how. She dodged rocks and ruins and fallen trees; she caught herself on _something_ whenever she stumbled and just _kept going_ because anything else was simply not an option.

She saw the pistol glinting in the moonlight at the edge of a dead forest and only then slowed; picking it up with shaking hands and needing to try three times before she could swallow. Passing thirty steps beyond the treeline saw a thick strip of fabric fluttering faintly on the ground; wet and _warm_ and only visible thanks to the single, pale 1 printed on it.

Her fingers came away dark, and her breathing stuttered in her chest. Her lungs burned and her vision blurred and her throat _ached,_ but she clenched her hand until her nails bit into her palm and forced it down.

The 1 was big enough that the strip could only have come from the _back_ of the vault suit, which hopefully meant that Blue was at least able to run. The lack of blood on the pistol probably meant that she'd dropped that _first,_ which in turn meant that she'd been smart enough to run _into_ the forest, which offered significantly more cover and opportunities to get away than open land. Blue was smart – _experienced –_ enough to know that, and so Piper took a breath and forced herself to settle. The panic receded until she could again hear something other than the continuous roar of her own heartbeat, and she focused on the clatter of dry branches and the slow rush of the wind as she slowly made her way deeper into the forest.

The far-off caw of a radraven. The faint glint of moonlight on rusting paint from the remains of a car. The slow wave of the leaves on a wild mutfruit bush. And then, at last, the sound of heavy, lumbering steps and – as she carefully crept closer – the hard sniffs and low growls of a predator.

It was little more than luck that made her spot the way a passing bit of light reflected off an eye, and the bands around her chest only loosened when her focus narrowed and she watched the eye blink; forced her vision to sharpen until she could barely make out the familiar frame stretched out on its back behind the meager shelter of a fallen tree. _Between_ her and the deathclaw.

Okay.

Piper prayed that Blue had spotted her, and placed a finger to her lips. Her other hand found the rock in her pocket and she gripped it, pulled her arm back, and _threw_ as hard she could.

One. Two. Three. Fo- _THUNK._ The deathclaw snarled and charged away from Blue, and Piper breathed for what felt like the first time in years and moved closer; ducking low and staying that way until she, too, was hidden behind the ancient trunk.

"Shh." A bare exhalation as branches cracked and snapped somewhere in the distance, but Blue nodded and seemed to slump from her head to her toes the instant Piper touched her. Her skin was damp with sweat and felt feverishly hot, and when Piper gently guided her to move, her entire body clenched without a sound.

She could feel the rips in the vault suit when she placed her hand on Blue's back and cautiously peeked over the very edge of their cover; could feel, too, the hot stickiness of blood and soil against skin. Three tears, Piper counted as she carefully moved her hand; needing to rely on touch more than sight in the shadows. Three; all as long as her hand from wrist to fingertip and then some, and all clotted with dirt which was, at least right now, preferable to them being clean and spreading the scent of fresh blood with all the subtlety of a blaring siren.

Slowly, with every second seeming to last a decade, she helped Blue to her feet. Silently, she slipped off her coat and maneuvered it over her best friend's shoulders since covering the wound would at least help mask the scent of it. Muffling Blue's scent with Piper's own wouldn't hurt, either.

Then, they moved; carefully picking a path further away from the angry roar that made Blue's fingers tighten around Piper's elbow. They stuck to the forest and the darkest possible shadows, didn't speak, and purposely walked through every trash heap and abandoned campsite they came across. Along the way, Piper secured another rock, and when they could no longer hear the deathclaw even roaring, she tied the bloodied strip she'd found around the rock and threw _that_ as far out of their way as she could manage.

They only paused when the forest ended, and even that was only long enough for Piper to get her bearings in the dark. They didn't speak until the bunker door – thankfully still locked when they arrived – closed behind them.

"Come on." Piper loosened the hand around her elbow and instead held it in her own. "We need to clean those before I can give you a stimpak."

Blue blinked, and Piper didn't think she'd ever seen her look so completely wrung out. "Running water?"

"Slow to build up, but clean." A light tug was enough, and Piper guided them through the quiet space; reaching out to flick a switch that made old lights blink to life around them.

She was a single breath from breaking down in hysterics and well aware of it. The thing was that Blue probably wasn't doing much better, and they couldn't both go to pieces at the same time with one of them injured. So Piper tamped it down far enough that she could control it, and instead focused on getting Blue stripped down to her waist; on getting her somewhat comfortable on her front in an old bed, and on moving around to collect things like a bowl of clean water, a soft cloth and medical supplies.

Blue had curled her arms under her head by the time Piper set down her findings and knelt beside the bed, and had even managed to reach her discarded Pip-boy and click DCR to life, too.

Distantly, as she set about cleaning the dirt away, Piper appreciated that. Even if she'd heard every note a thousand times or more, silence would have made thinking far too easy. Instead, she listened to the familiar songs and the rhythm of Blue's breathing, replaced the water when needed and slowly cleared the grunge from her best friend's back until the water ran pink and she could examine the raw wounds properly.

"I think you got lucky," she noted as she tugged gently at the inflamed skin, and winced when Blue did. "Torn muscle from what I can see, but nothing actually went deep enough to rip anything completely apart."

Blue, who had her forehead resting on her folded arms and her eyes closed near as Piper could see, snorted. "Luck, nothin'," she muttered. "I woulda been deathclaw snack if you hadn't turned up." A single eye popped open to regard Piper when she settled back on her haunches; bloodshot and tired and grateful. "Thank you."

Piper turned to the makeshift medkit and shrugged, because it wasn't like she could have done anything else. "Don't go adventuring again on your own, okay?"

The wan chuckle made her smile. "'Kay." Blue winced at the first touch of the disinfectant, but slowly settled again as Piper worked. "Sorry."

She didn't need to ask what for; Blue always hated putting others in danger. "Don't be."

"Mph."

Silence settled again as Piper finished disinfecting and started dressing the wounds, but it was a less loaded, more _comfortable_ silence this time; as if the brief words they'd exchanged were all either of them needed to processes the terror from a bare hour ago.

Maybe it was.

Piper secured a stimpak and checked it over. "Gonna poke you," she then warned; prodding at the skin below Blue's neck and waiting for the low grunt of acknowledgment before making the injection.

It was probably for the best that she used the stimpak where she did, Piper mused as she carefully removed it again. Blue hated needles with a passion, and the only thing worse to her than being poked with one was being poked and having to _watch._ Thankfully, though, Blue had enough self control that the only visible sign of her discomfort was the tension in her shoulders and the tightening of her fingers; both of which eased visibly when Piper gave her hair a gentle ruffle.

"All done."

There was another soft chuckle; more muffled than the last one since Blue's face was halfway buried in the worn pillow. "Thanks, nurse Wright." _Oh,_ the places she could go with that, but Blue was looking at her now and Piper firmly told herself to get a grip. "I'll try my hardest to not require your services again any time soon."

"Uh huh." Fat chance of that, Piper guessed, since Blue did tend to throw herself headfirst into the darnedest situations. "I'll be happy if you can just avoid doing lasting damage to yourself."

Wide, innocent eyes blinked at her. "Permission to remind you that whatever damage is done to me is usually done by _others?"_

Somehow, she resisted the urge to smile. "Permission denied." She guessed from the stuck-out tongue that her eyes were probably betraying her, and smoothed down a corner of the bandage with a fingertip. "That's semantics, anyway."

"Huh." Blue shifted, and now rested her chin resting on her folded arms, rather than her temple. "I figured a reporter would have a larger appreciation for linguistics."

Sarcasm seemed to be Blue's default setting more often than not, and since Piper was thus well beyond simply used to it, she rolled her eyes. "The only linguistics I'd appreciate right now are the ones that include an explanation of what on earth made you decide to go wandering around in the dark." Pause. "Alone."

"Ah." Blue found something desperately interesting to look at somewhere over Piper's shoulder, and proceeded to blush all the way down to the center of her back.

Fascinating. Piper pursed her lips. "Should I have called you Red?"

"Shut up." The answer was little more than a low groan as Blue pressed her face into the pillow. She promptly sneezed and then groaned again, but at least turned her head until her face was visible. "I'm only red when you remind me that I'm an idiot."

"Didn't know you _needed_ reminding." Piper focused on tidying up her supplies, and hid a smile at the low growl. "Seriously though, Blue; why?"

A long sigh stirred the air, and somewhere in the background, Travis introduced another song. "Cait."

Her head snapped up. "Excuse me?"

"Not like that." It was a testament to the depth of their friendship that Blue could apparently read Piper's mind from a simple glance. "We didn't argue or... anything," she muttered; the color slowly fading from her back but – at least from what Piper could tell – remaining in her cheeks. "She just-" A hard exhale; as if she was uncertain but determined to go ahead all the same. "- said some things, and I figured I'd run them by you."

"At oh-dark-hundred somewhere near the ass end of the Commonwealth?" Piper waited for Blue to grunt and pick at the pillow, and groaned. "What the hell was so imp-"

For possibly the first time ever, Blue spoke over her. "She said you look at me like it hurts."

Aware as Piper was of resting on her knees, it still felt weirdly like tripping over her own feet. Her insides seemed to freeze and condense into a tiny ball that settled somewhere low in her gut, and everything from her mouth to her vocal chords went so dry that she had to swallow several times before she could speak.

When she did so, it was with a scoff that sounded weak even to her own ears. "I think maybe Cait's been hitting the jet a little too h-"

The gentle touch stopped her. "She also said _I_ look at _you_ like the entire world broke and you put it back together."

For somewhere between a second and a lifetime, the entire world froze. Piper's heart stopped and _jumped_ and then started again as the world bled back in, except now with a weird sort of limited focus that painted Blue in vivid color and everything else in gray-scale.

"You said it was a fluke," she pointed out haltingly; voice raspy and tight around the lump that kept creeping up her throat.

"No." Blue's expression was at least seven kinds of exhausted and embarrassed and _warm_ all at once, and while the angle was a little odd with their respective positions, Piper didn't think that was the cause for the tremble in those fingers as they slowly stroked her face. _"You_ said that." Her voice was low and careful and not-entirely-even, and Piper stared at her and wondered hazily how this whole 'breathing' thing could be perfectly instinctive for over two decades and then suddenly require concentrated effort. "And I should've corrected you the first time."

Piper was vaguely aware of feeling nothing other than the hesitant trace of those fingers over her cheek or the erratic pounding of her own heart. Even her vision tunneled; eliminating everything other than Blue's face and _eyes_ and that uncertain little twist at the corner of her mouth, and she theorized somewhere that maybe she was hallucinating but she really, really hoped not.

"I was going to." Soft, and with more than just a tinge of shame as Blue dropped her gaze. "But you were so adamant on blaming everything on booze and I-" A sigh. "I got scared. I'm sorry."

And what _on earth,_ Piper wondered as the world turned on its axis in a whirling, wonderful upending of everything she believed possible, did _she_ have to be sorry for?

"What-" Her voice cracked, and she had to clear her throat twice before she could try again. "What were you going to say back then? Before-" Her teeth caught on her lower lip, but she didn't move a single muscle otherwise because it felt like she might wake up if she did. "- before I pretty much barreled over you?"

_"Jesus, Piper; I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"_

For a long moment - one where Piper _could not look away,_ just like the night in Goodneighbor – Blue simply watched her. "That I didn't mean to move so fast," she admitted; her voice barely audible over the sound of the radio. "That I didn't want that first time I got to kiss you or-" Another bright, abrupt flush, and Piper caught the hand as it left her face and kept it from retreating fully. "- _touch_ you to be that public, but..." A pause; one long enough for either three regular heartbeats or about fifteen of Piper's. "... that I wanted to try again and get it _right._ " A swallow. "If you'd give me some time and... y'know, let me."

Oh.

_Oh._

"Do you still need time?" she wondered; for one, honestly curious as to where Blue was _at_ , and for another, dearly wanting to know for far more selfish reasons.

"No." Blue dropped her gaze to their clasped hands, and twined their fingers before looking back up with eyes so open and _bared_ that it stole the breath from her lungs. "I just need you."

Damn it, she was _not_ going to _cry._ Yeah, so she'd wanted a chance at something deeper with Blue for what felt like ages; that wasn't exactly a new thing.

Actually _getting_ it, though?

"Ow." She rubbed at the spot on her arm, because yeah; she'd definitely felt that.

Blue's gaze jerked back up from where it had apparently been focusing on Piper's hand, and her face scrunched in something that looked about halfway between astonishment and barely-restrained laughter. "Did you seriously just pinch yourself?"

Piper shrugged and found a smile, and somehow managed to keep that smile from turning into the biggest, goofiest, most embarrassing oh-gosh-aren't-you-cute grin that probably would have split her face in half.

How could she explain, though? How was she supposed to make Blue understand that while she could use her words and her writings to bring about justice in ways big and small, she had long since resigned herself to that fact that she would never really get what she wanted for _herself?_ How could she tell Blue that she would probably have surprised Piper less had she flapped her arms and taken flight?

Embarrassingly, she couldn't find the words for it when those eyes were watching her as fondly as they were, but Blue – if Piper knew her and she liked to think that she did – was more for actions than words anyway. The finest evidence of that was how that smile was coming closer; the worn mattress dipping what little it could under Blue's elbow while the hand that Piper wasn't holding instead slipped over her cheek, into her hair and curled so, _so_ gently around the back of her neck until Piper was leaning in as well; until she could feel the gentle warmth of Blue's breathing and her own respiration hitched in response.

But a bare breath away, Blue paused.

"May I?"

Okay, maybe she gave a _tiny_ sob at that - low and choked and barely even there – but Blue's voice was soft and warm and _tender,_ and sounded mostly as though Piper might just be the most dearly cherished part of her life. So she didn't speak, and instead gave her answer by pressing forward; by catching those soft lips with her own, and by feeling in exquisite detail how Blue's slow, contented exhale warmed her right down to the very tips of her toes.

_God_. Try though she could, Piper doubted that she would ever find out just how Blue managed to even _smell_ as good as she did even now; like fresh air and warm fires and sleepy, late mornings. By all rights she should have smelled like blood, mud and sweat, but every time Piper inhaled she just wanted _more;_ more of the soft caress of Blue's breathing across her face, more of the light touch that slid from her neck over her shoulder and to the small of her back, and more of the faint tickle of fine hairs against her skin when her hand came up to cradle Blue's cheek.

Deeper, now. Piper had no earthly clue which one of them initiated that, and honestly couldn't be bothered to think about it, either. All she could focus on was the sound that started from one of them and was then echoed by the other, and how they were now pressing so closely together that she was vividly and _distractingly_ reminded of the fact that _Blue was naked from the waist up._

That moan was hers; so low and rough that her throat _ached_ from it, and Blue just gasped and pulled her in tighter until there was nothing but smooth, warm skin under her hands.

Piper's mouth found a patch of that skin, and she felt Blue arch into her until her head swam from it. She was being pulled forward even further, now; close and _yes_ and perfect with Blue's breath hitching against her cheek and those _fingers_ slipping under her collar until her skin tingled. Further still; until she had to set an elbow on the bed to support herself and the taste of Blue's skin touched her tongue; until long, familiar arms were winding tightly around her as Blue made a low sound right by her ear, and until there were erratically moving ribs shifting under her palms when Blue shivered and rolled onto her back-

\- and yelped.

"Shit." Piper snapped back and hastily helped Blue onto her side; one hand slipping over the exposed back to check that the bandage was still in place. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Blue breathed several times – increasingly slow and deep as her fingers clenched around a fold of pillow – and then finally relaxed enough for the tension to ease from her face. "Yeah. I'm fine." There was another long breath before her eyes opened, and when they did, the absolute _glow_ in them when they focused was enough to make Piper's heart hiccup against the inside of her ribs. "Hi."

"Hi." Everything she felt was probably written on her face in bold and double-underlined, capital letters; from the smile that made her cheeks ache to the almost-painful swell in her chest that threatened to make the stinging at the corners of her eyes spill over. So she didn't use words that felt too intense and _big_ anyway; instead sliding her fingers into Blue's hair and scratching gently at her scalp until those eyes slipped shut in an expression of such complete, contented peace that she had to swallow _hard._ "Probably shouldn't sleep on your back tonight, huh?"

A soft puff of laughter tickled her face. "Probably not." Blue released the pillow and caught Piper's hand instead; bringing it to her lips without ever looking away. "Will you be my pillow?"

"Every night, if you want." That... absolutely wasn't what she was _planning_ to say, but the idea was out and there was little Piper could do to pull it back. Instead, she was left to wait and _curse_ in the privacy of her own head because dammit, there was such a thing as _timing_ and even if _Blue_ wanted more _too_ there was still something like _too much too soon_ and she _really_ needed to learn how to filter herself around this woman _before_ she spoke, if only to spare herself from the hot, burning mortification of watching Blue's expression change from curiosity to surprise, then to doubt and consideration and...

… perfect, blissful joy. "I want."

Oh. Piper blinked and felt something akin to mental lag as her brain struggled to catch up, because she was starting to realize that no matter how high she managed to raise her expectations, Blue was dead-set on overreaching them.

That was going to take some getting used to.

"Hey." A gentle tug at her hand pulled her from her thoughts, and it was to the sight of Blue having scooted back enough to make room on the mattress, which she now patted. "Pillow duty."

"Brat." Piper chuckled because it was either that or cry from sheer, overwhelming exhilaration. "At least let me find a blanket."

Blue actually _pouted_ at that, and while that small show of playfulness was a clear carry-over from their friendship, Piper struggled to figure out how to respond to it in this new context; teetering as she was on knowing what she _wanted_ to do and wondering if it would be welcomed. Still, she hadn't filled the role of the Commonwealth's intrepid reporter this long for nothing, and that was enough to make her lean in and nudge the protruding lower lip back into place with her own.

She stayed like that for a long, peaceful moment; feeling Blue's steady breathing and the gentle heat that radiated from her skin, as well as the slow touch that traveled up her arm until there were familiar fingers curling in her hair. Another light touch brushed the side of her face, and when it lazily trailed higher, there was the low _plop_ of her press cap hitting the floor.

Piper puffed a laugh, and smiled wide enough that she had to break the kiss. "Jeez, Blue; first my coat and now my hat." She waited for one of those eyes to pop open and regard her curiously. "Leave a girl some clothes, wouldya?"

There wasn't an actual, verbal answer to that, but the slow arch of Blue's eyebrow spoke volumes all the same. The crooked, almost devious grin that followed only added emphasis, and Piper felt the flush crawl up her neck even as she narrowed her eyes.

"I swear; you're the only person I know who can be smartass without even speaking."

Blue shrugged the shoulder she wasn't resting on. "It's a gift."

"I'm sure it is." Piper kissed her again, though - just because she could – and then sighed as she pulled back. "Blankets."

"Blankets." Blue's fingers played idly with the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck. "Want a hand?"

Piper pushed herself to her feet, and gave her best friend a look that was half fondness, half wry exasperation. "I think I can carry a couple of blankets on my own, thanks." She bent over enough to tuck an errant lock of hair into place behind Blue's ear. "So how about you let the stimpak do its thing, and just lay there and look pretty?"

That netted her the sharp lift of both eyebrows while Blue blinked. Five times.

So, Piper thought as she ambled off, maybe she wasn't the only one kind of tripping over herself right now. Maybe she wasn't the only one wondering if she was dreaming rather than wide awake – if bordering on collapsing from exhaustion – or the only one feeling so unusually optimistic about the future that getting used to it would take serious effort.

She was here, though. _They_ were here – her and Blue – both of them honest and willing and _wanting_ to take a chance on each other, and while Piper held no illusions that it would be easy to navigate a fledgling relationship while dealing with details like the Institute and the Brotherhood, that want was enough.

It was _more_ than enough, actually; a fact that was only cemented by the pleasant lurch in her chest when she trekked back along the cold floor with the blankets under her arm, and Blue's reaction to setting eyes on her was a smile so easy and instant that it was clearly an instinctive response. Even if the slow flutter of her lashes made it obvious that she was struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Sleep." Piper told her quietly; shutting off the overhead lights, shaking the blankets out and settling on the narrow mattress before making sure they were both sufficiently covered. "You've earned it, Blue. Eventful night and all that."

"True." Blue nestled into her with a low hum. "Not every day I get dragged into a bunker and kissed to within an inch of my life."

Piper rolled her eyes at the dusty ceiling. "That is _not_ what I meant, and you know it," she grumbled; fingers painting gentle lines over the unbandaged sections of Blue's back. "Impalement by death claw better not happen again. Ever."

"Hmm." The familiar voice was dipping into slower, deeper tones. "Might be worth it if it gets me this treatment."

_Brat_. Piper held her a little tighter, and elected to give Blue's lower back a slow scratch in lieu of an actual reply since it was clear that her best friend was fading fast.

However. "For the record," came the sleepy mumble. "I am totally in favor of the kissed to within an inch of my life thing happening on the regular."

"Sleep, Blue."

"I'm just sayi-"

" _Sleep."_

A soft chuckle, and then a kiss to her sternum. "Yes, dear."


End file.
